Without Knowing
by Sophi Lovett
Summary: A recap of the relationship Rogue has with Logan from her point of view, spanning over the time of the three movies. Short and not-so sweet.


AN: I had just finished watching the first three movies of X-men (I'm counting X-men Origins: Wolverine as coming before the trilogy, therefore making it the first, ANYWAYS) And I was once more hit with the Rogan bug which always seems to hit me whenever I watch X-men or X-2. So, generally, this is a quick recap on the relationship from Rogue's point of view -- I may expand on it, I'll probably just leave it as a stand alone, seeing as it was only an spur of the moment inspiration. As usual, nothing belongs to me, not even the keyboard I'm using to right this with.

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_"He did it without knowing  
Didn't feel a thing  
Just wrecked it and kept going."_

He entered her life by chance; she'd met Him in a bar, He'd been fighting for money. Apparently, that was a common occurrence for Him back in those days. She was fresh from the home life, chased away by trauma, and He was a veteran of bars and boozing and life. Trouble followed Him wherever He went, and the moment she had decided to join Him, it followed her too. Still, her heart raced with excitement, not because of the life or death situations she would fall into, not because adrenaline was needed just to survive in such a world, but because He was near her. She could never touch Him, but she could feel the heat radiate off His body and soul. His eyes scorched her skin, determination and mystery branded into His two hazel orbs. He excited her in a way no other man had ever managed to, His wildness, the untamed animal within Him, the anger and the passion, she had grown to love it all. He was timeless and she was fresh and He was everything she could ever want in life, and yet, all the passion and the love that she had come to posses for Him couldn't be returned -- or rather, wouldn't.

She saw those longing looks in His hazel eyes for the redheaded woman. A woman who was already blessed with love, and gifts, and ease of life. But nonetheless, He wanted the redheaded woman -- loved the redheaded woman -- because simply she could not offer Him the same. He was a masochist, with no memories of His life prior to hurt, He would seek things which would cut Him a new wound, either emotionally or physically. Each yearning look she would catch directed towards the redheaded woman caused an ache in her heart. An ache which she covered up by spending time with children her own age. She had even tried to occupy herself with a boyfriend, but, nothing would rid her from her wanting of the man. It drove her crazy, kept her up nights on end until her eyes became sunken and dull with fatigue.

He would never notice her suffering, He would never notice the way she pined for Him the same way He pined for the redheaded woman. And, that fact was perhaps the worst thing of all. He didn't or couldn't give her a direct refusal because He was incapable to move beyond His ignorance and His own path in life. There was only one thing worse than being in the pain from loving someone so much, and that was being completely ignored in that regard. She was so below what He would even consider, she didn't even appear as a tiny blip on His radar. How couldn't He know about the way He'd give her hope (be it unintentional or not)? The dog tags He had bestowed on her as a promise He'd return to her. She was still waiting for the day He would come back for her and her only. She waited patiently for the day there would no longer be a redheaded woman, there would no longer be ghosts tugging at His mind, where she was no longer a little girl who needed Him as a substitute father or guardian.

In the end, He never noticed her wanting or her loving. He buried his heart away with the redhead woman when she died. He protected His heart so much when the redheaded woman's choice was not him that now it wasn't so much ignorance as that He placed walls so high He couldn't see anyone else. She was doomed to a purgatory of half-emotion from the man. He only half-loved her, half-knew her as she wanted Him to. In the end she succumbed to making herself normal, removing her quirk because even that hadn't been enough to make Him love her. Not even the very real threat of touching her would make her interesting to the man. When it came down to it, she settled for that boy whom was her distraction, making herself a promise that she would never love a man as much as she did Him. If she could not have Him, then that passion would be shared with no one. She reserved it for Him and only Him.

He didn't even know how He locked her away, didn't even know how much sleep she'd lost over Him. He'd never know why she kept white within her chestnut locks. He'd never know of her sacrifice or care about her normality. Only look down upon it as if it was an act of self-indulgence on her part. He would never know the catastrophe He had created with the rogue woman, and some part of her was thankful that the man would never know of His power over her. He would just keep wandering and destroying and never, ever know.


End file.
